


Carry Me To My Home

by libertarian_firelord



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 1960's AU (kind of), F/M, Fluff, I couldn't help it I'm a total avgeek, Just a random idea I had, One Shot, aviation AU, pilot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libertarian_firelord/pseuds/libertarian_firelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Zuko and Katara are both mildly (ok they're actually <em>really</em>) stubborn, and a coffee has a tragic death scene.  (Aka a highly fictionalized account of how my grandparents met)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry Me To My Home

**Author's Note:**

> All standard disclaimers apply. I didn’t think up these characters, nor the show which they are from.
> 
> The jets mentioned in this story are essentially Boeing 707’s (what can I say, I’m a total aviation geek). Imagine this: http://tinyurl.com/hsrbv6r but red instead of blue. 
> 
> The concept of a named jet is taken from Pan Am Airlines (which is what Phoenix International Airlines is based on), who named all their airplanes “Clippers.” I've had a long fascination with Pan Am Airlines, so it seemed only natural to me to essentially slot Zutara into that. And before you say that naming all the jets “Dragons” is weird, Scandinavian Air Services once called their airplanes “Vikings.” So I have nothing if not a precedent…
> 
> Title is a line from the song “Jet Airliner,” written by Paul Pena. I was listening to the famous Steve Miller Band cover when inspiration for this story hit, so it seemed fitting to at least give the song a nod with the title, if nothing else. 
> 
> Basically, this is the result of me listening to “Jet Airliner” and thinking “Hey, what if Zutara happened in a 1960’s aviation aesthetic?” In my head, this kinda looked like that ABC show “Pan Am” that only lasted half a season—only with more red, because Fire Nation, obviously.
> 
> This is also my first fic, so pardon any formatting errors (and general suckishness)--I'm still trying to learn this site.

\---

A scarred young man in a suit walked briskly through the airport. His favorite moment of the day was fast approaching, and he didn’t want to miss it. The airport wasn’t crowded yet since it was still early morning, but he had to reach the end of the concourse before sunrise. As he walked, he thought back over the past two weeks and sighed. Perhaps Uncle had been right; perhaps he _had_ needed a break. Working for his uncle’s airline had its perks. When he earned vacation time, he could travel anywhere in the world for free, by virtue of his being a copilot. And admittedly, spending more than 24 hours in one city relaxed him. But his vacation was over now, and he was headed back home. And Uncle had been right on another count: with these new jet airliners, the world _had_ gotten smaller. Well, not really, but with the faster airplanes, travel times dropped considerably. Over the past two weeks, he had traveled all over the world. In the older, slower airplanes, he wouldn’t have been able to fly half as far as he had within the past fortnight. Not for the first time, he was glad for his uncle’s business acumen in acquiring these newer, faster aircraft.

\---

A young woman in a blue dress hurried through the airport. Thanks to good planning, she knew she wouldn’t be late, but excitement had gotten the better of her. After getting the letter of acceptance into stewardess training in Caldera City, she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Soon, she would be a stewardess for the prestigious Phoenix International Airways, living a glamorous life, and flying around the world on their swift new Dragon jets! That had been several weeks ago, but the visions of grandeur refused to leave her head. After what seemed like years here in Ba Sing Se, the day had finally come to fly to the Fire Nation and start her training. She stopped at a kiosk to buy her morning coffee, then checked her ticket one more time—Dragon service to Caldera City, Gate M9. She asked a passing stewardess where gate M9 was who pointed her to the very end of the concourse. With a spring in her step, she hurried on.

\---

Finally, he made it to his destination: gate M9, on the eastern end of Concourse M at Ba Sing Se International Airport. The rising sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows and he walked behind the gate desk to watch. He stood in a secluded area with a tall partition a few feet from the window. No one would bother him here. As the ramp slowly lightened, a large airplane began to materialize in the growing dawn. He looked down at the sleek jet standing proudly on the ramp below him. Two stripes, one thick and red, the other thin and black, ran down its side, separating the white-painted top from the polished aluminum belly. Stark black letters spelled out PHOENIX INTERNATIONAL AIRLINES on the side. All the PIA Dragon jets had different adjectives for names, such as “Dragon Victorious” or “Dragon Resolute.” Behind its main passenger door, smaller letters identified this airplane as “Dragon Defiant.” Sitting at the next gate over was Dragon Valiant. Despite the fact that he’d been flying these jets for a couple years now, the young man still found it a little strange to see an airplane with sleek, swept-back wings, and no propellers. He smiled slightly at the sight of the two airliners before him. He had flown both aircraft on several occasions in the past, and would get to fly them again very soon. The sun had fully risen now, warming the airport. The traveler closed his eyes, and sighed. His flight’s departure time was approaching, which meant the pilot would be doing his walk around check. The gate area behind him began to bustle with activity as passengers showed up to check in.

\---

At last, the blue-eyed woman arrived at her gate. Though a crowd of impatient passengers had started to form, there was still plenty of time before boarding would begin. At this point, a group of PIA stewardesses made their way toward the gate. Her gaze remained glued to them as they strutted confidently in step towards the jetway, maroon uniforms crisp, hats placed perfectly, hair and makeup just so. Soon, she eagerly thought, she would be walking in a group like that. She would be one of them! After they had disappeared down the jetway, she noticed a floor-to-ceiling window behind the gate desk with a beautiful view of the airport behind it. She hurried towards it, wanting to catch a glimpse of the marvelous new Dragon jets she hoped to soon be working on. She also hoped to find some shelter behind the desk from what promised to be a crushing mass of people. Besides, she still had more than half of her coffee left. She didn’t want to risk spilling it.

\---

The young man decided he had stood looking out the window long enough. He had to talk to the captain about riding home in the jumpseat anyway. Since he was a copilot for PIA, he could ride for free in a designated cockpit “jumpseat.” The captain on this flight was his cousin, so he didn’t anticipate any trouble getting into the reserved seat. Bracing himself for the crowd, he turned from his hiding place, rounded the corner of the wall, and ran straight into a wall of blue and hot, scalding liquid.

\---

The shocked woman stepped back from the man she’d just collided with and soaked in hot coffee, taking in a good-looking face and a trim body, before breaking out in apology.

“Spirits, I’m sorry! You jumped out so suddenly, and I didn’t—”

“Pay more attention to where you’re going!” he snarled, cutting her off as he stood, trying to brush off his now stained shirt and tie.

“I will if you will!” she snapped back.

“ _I_ was! You’re the one who walked into me!”

“That corner was just as blind for you as it was for me, so don’t try to make this entirely my fault!”

“ _I’m_ the one soaked in hot coffee!”

“Well if you hadn’t been hiding-”

“Hiding? Are you blind?! I was just around the corner!”

“Oh, blind jokes! That’s rich, coming from you, Scarface.”

He sneered. “Even if both my eyes were scabbed over, I’d still have more situational awareness than you.” He then stomped past her, roughly bumping against her shoulder on the way.

“You…you…you ass!” she sputtered, trying to find a good parting shot.

But he was already too far away to hear. _What a jerk,_ she thought. _Hopefully not all Fire Nation people are as rude as_ he _was...though I wouldn’t mind if they were all as attractive._

She decided that one encounter with an impolite (albeit handsome) man wouldn’t ruin her day, and turned back to the window, looking out at the two impressive jets waiting outside. Both looked resplendent in the morning sun. She pulled a travel camera out of her suitcase, and took a picture of Defiant Dragon, the one she would ride to her new employment. Soon, her clash with the rude young man was all but forgotten in her mind.

\---

In a fresh shirt and tie, the young man walked down the jetway and boarded the plane. In the cockpit, he greeted his cousin, the co-pilot, and the flight engineer, and then took his seat on the left behind his cousin.

“Hey man, why do you smell like coffee?” asked the flight engineer. The young man with the scar scowled and told them about his crash in the concourse.

“…despite the scalding coffee dripping down my shirt, I did notice one thing: she had the bluest damn eyes I’d ever seen!”

“Careful cuz, sounds like you’re getting a crush!” the captain chuckled.

“Oh shut up and run your checklist,” the man in the jumpseat grumbled. The crew laughed.

A few hours later, after the passengers had disembarked at Firelord Sozin International Airport, the captain turned back and said, “Wait a second, cuz, I have something for you. My father knew you’d be on this flight, and asked me to pass it along.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his flight bag and handed it to his cousin, who read it. After a moment, his face lit up.

“It’s from my uncle—he says I’ve finally gotten my captain’s upgrade! My training starts in a few days!”

“Congrats, cuz! You’re gonna make a great captain!”

After rounds of congratulations from the rest of the crew, the ecstatic young man floated out of the airplane, up the jetway, and all the way home. His scalding encounter with the blue-eyed girl a few hours before was the last thing on his mind.

\---

_Several weeks later_

\---

Two young men strode purposefully through the airport, one wearing a crisp new jacket with four gold stripes on its cuffs—the symbol of a captain. His hat was cocked at a jaunty angle on his head, laurels embroidered on the brim. The other only had three gold stripes on his cuffs and no laurels on his hat brim, but both wore their uniforms with pride. The two pilots strolled confidently through the airport, laughing at a self-deprecating joke about his face that the captain made.

Rather than marring his looks, the massive scar on the side of the captain’s face complimented his features, adding to the man’s mystique. Traveling through airports the world over, many women gazed longingly as he walked by, blushing when he returned their gaze. Eventually they arrived at their gate, and walked aboard their airplane, Dragon Majestic.

\---

The young woman walked with her new compatriots through the airport, all four walking together, red uniforms clean and sharp, gold buttons polished, looking the epitome of professionalism, pride, and class. This was it—the young woman’s first flight as a stewardess for PIA. She was full of nervous energy, but didn’t show it as she walked through the airport. Today’s flight was relatively easy: just one five hour leg up to the Northern Water Tribe, then an eighteen-hour layover before the flight back the next day. Everything would be fine.

\---

In the cockpit of Majestic Dragon, the flight deck crew had just finished the takeoff calculations and flight plan. The new captain spoke up, saying, “Alright gentlemen, the flight plan is complete, filed, and approved. What say we go brief the girls in back, get the passengers on board, and get outta here?” The copilot and flight engineer agreed, and they headed back towards the galley. On the walk to the back of the airplane, the copilot reminded the captain that one of the stewardesses was new, and the scarred man nodded. _She’s not the only one_ , he thought nervously.

\---

“C’mon, we’ve gotta be ready when the pilots get back here for the pre-flight briefing!” said a brunette stewardess.

“I know,” the novice stewardess replied, “let me just finish stowing these coffee mugs. I’ll be right there.”

“Just come up to the end of the passenger cabin. That’s where we usually meet for the briefing.”

“Right, thanks.”

\---

After exchanging pleasantries with three of his four stewardesses, the captain confusedly looked around. “Wait a minute, there are only three of you. There should be four. Where’s the fourth?” he asked, as he began to walk towards the bulkhead looking for the absent woman.

\---

Having finished securing the mugs, the new stewardess stood, straightened her jacket, and walked quickly up towards the galley’s forward bulkhead, and just as she rounded the corner into the passenger cabin, she walked into a wall of black that yelled in consternation and jumped back.

“Watch where—”

“I’m going, I know,” she cut across the captain midsentence. “I’ve heard it before.” She looked up and met his gaze.

“YOU!” They both exclaimed at the same time, recognizing each other. The watching crew looked at the pair, then hastily looked away as the new captain and new stewardess turned to face the rest of the crew.

“Riiiiight...” the copilot began, eyeing the seething pair to his right, “we’re looking at a pretty ordinary flight up to the Northern Water Tribe today, with a flight time of just under 6 hours thanks to some stiff headwinds over the ocean. Here’s the passenger manifest. Just so you know, there are a few VIPs in first today—dignitaries, I think—so treat them especially well. Other than that, it’s just another flight. Girls, divvy up the cabin however you want to. You’ve done it a hundred times, let’s do it again.”

“I refuse to work in first, if it means I also have to bring drinks to _him_ ,” said the new stewardess pointing to the captain.

“Fine by me,” he shot back, before turning and storming back up towards the cockpit, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering to himself, “You’re incapable of carrying a drink anyway.”

“What was that?!”

“Nothing!”

\---

Thirty minutes after takeoff, the flight was progressing smoothly. All the engine gauges were showing good readings, the autopilot held the airplane on course and altitude, and the air was smooth. The captain looked out the windshield, and—despite knowing that he was flying a 164-ton aircraft at over 400 miles per hour, and that he was responsible for all 154 lives on board—felt a sense of peace. He looked around the cockpit, scanned the instruments again, and being satisfied with their readings, thought to himself _I’ve made it. I’ve done it. I’m flying the fastest airplanes to the farthest places, and I’m the captain!_ The copilot ruined his reverie.

“Alright cap, spill. What’s the deal with you and the new girl?” The captain sighed and explained how he had run into her (literally) a few weeks before at Ba Sing Se. When he had finished his tale, the flight engineer looked at him with a disbelieving look on his face.

“All she did was spill some coffee on you, and you snapped at her? Man, that’s a little low.”

“Yeah man,” added the flight engineer, “you might have overreacted a little.”

“But still, she should have better situational awareness! You don’t just freakin’ charge around a blind corner carrying boiling coffee!” The captain tried to defend himself, but felt his argument weakening.

\---

“So what’s with you and the captain?” asked the brunette stewardess during a moment in the galley when both women weren’t serving passengers. The new hire had taken a liking to her earlier in the flight, and so the two were working together in the main cabin. The other two stewardesses were working in the first class cabin and first class lounge respectively.

“Oh, nothing much really. He bumped into me a few weeks ago, I spilled my coffee on him, he yelled, I yelled, he stormed off. That’s about it.”

“And you both still hold a grudge? Wow. Y’know, if you’re gonna work at this airline, you’ll have to get over yourself and at least be on speaking terms with him. Since he’s one of only sixteen captains on this airplane, you’ll be flying together fairly often.”

“What, _I_ should apologize? I tried! He just snapped at me and stormed off! I’m not apologizing to that arrogant ass!”

\---

“No, I refuse to apologize to that oblivious klutz! _She’s_ the one who doused _me_ with scalding coffee at five thirty in the morning!”

“Listen,” replied the flight engineer, “for the sake of your professional life, you need to do this. I’m not saying you have to love her, I’m not even saying you have to like her. But you do need to swallow your pride and at least be civil towards her. You’re the captain. We all look to you for leadership, and right now, you’re not giving us much to look to. You’re just being a stubborn S.O.B. and it’s just plain dishonorable.” The man’s words made sense, the last sentence really hitting home, and for the rest of the flight, the young man felt pangs of guilt gnawing at him.

\---

The flight had landed safely, the passengers had all gotten off, and most of the flight crew had gone ahead to the overnight hotel. Carrying his flight bag, the captain put his hat on and closed the cockpit door. The setting sun shone golden and soft through the windows on the right side of the jet. He was just about to walk out the door and up the jetway himself, when he heard a crash and a muffled burst of unladylike swearing. Following the feminine voice coming from somewhere in the rear of the airplane, he strode to the aft galley, where the new stewardess was mopping up a spilled pot of leftover coffee. Without a word, he grabbed another rag lying nearby and began scrubbing the floor. The stewardess didn’t even notice the captain until stepping backwards and accidentally planting her foot solidly on his hand.

“Ow!” The stewardess jumped at his exclamation and turned around.

“What are you doing here?” she asked defensively.

“Helping out,” replied the captain, looking up at her. “It’s my ship, so it’s my responsibility that she’s clean and presentable.”

“Uh-huh,” she said suspiciously.

“Listen,” he said, standing up, “I owe you an apology. I overreacted when I ran into you and you showered me in scalding coffee—”

“I _showered_ you? No no no. That’s a major exaggeration.”

“When I got doused,” he held up his hand. “Whatever. Point is, I overreacted, and should not have spoken to you the way I did. For that, I apologize.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I overreacted a little bit too,” the stewardess replied. “I accept your apology. And I didn’t help matters today at the briefing. Sorry about that.”

“ _We_ didn’t help matters today. And it’s ok. Truce?” He held out his hand, and she took it.

“Truce.” She smiled widely at him, and was surprised to see the earnestness and kindness in his amber eyes. All he saw was the way her eyes lit up with that gorgeous smile—it dawned on him that this was the first time she’d looked at him with anything but anger. He thought he wouldn’t mind seeing that smile a little more often. Then she started snickering and he realized he’d gone slack-jawed for a second and snapped his mouth shut. _Real smooth,_ he sarcastically chastised himself. _You always were quite the ladies man_.

“By the way, thanks to my stubbornness, I never caught your name…”

“Katara.” _Katara,_ he thought. _Pretty name for a pretty girl_.

“Zuko,” he said aloud.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Zuko,” she said, mock curtseying with a smile.

“Likewise,” he replied, grinning. “Hey, by the way, the crew sometimes goes out for drinks once we’re off duty. Would you care to join us?” At this she smiled.

“As long as it’s not coffee!” They were still laughing halfway up the jetway.

 

_End_

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Amateum, without whose poking and prodding this fic would not have happened (or at least it would have been much worse). She also suffered my incessant aviation pedantry with true patience, which is more than most people can do.
> 
>  
> 
> Addendum: In the scene in which the scarred captain (you all know who he is) and the copilot are walking through the airport laughing at a joke, I pictured a scene rooted in the long tradition of the "narrative/scene begins with the main character delivering an out-of-context punch line" trope. This is best imagined with Zuko having a thick New York accent. 
> 
> “…So I sez to her, I sez, ‘Lady, how do you think I got this scar, flippin’ pancakes?!’”  
> *They laugh, continue regularly scheduled fic here* 
> 
> And that, kids, is why you shouldn't (or should) edit fic at 1 am. (Fwiw, when I texted Amateum about this, she came up with a headcanon that pilot!Zuko uses his NY accent in the preflight announcement just to mess with the passengers on the plane. I could see no reason why this shouldn't be true).


End file.
